Summer Storm: Hail

There's a saying attributed to Mark Twain: "If you don't like the weather in New England, just wait a few minutes." Yesterday afternoon was no exception. 

In the late afternoon, the clouds began to assemble, rolling in from the west. The sun still managed to peak through the few remaining patches of blue sky. The western sky darkened and a distant rumble of thunder was heard, but above us there was no sign of the stormy weather. 

The sun was sinking low; its golden light covered the lake and reflected off the surface of the water, illuminating the eastern shore with its warm glow. 

It began to rain, lightly at first. The drizzle quickly turned into a downpour. The rain drummed steadily on the roof. And then it grew louder, more of a distinct ping-ping sound than the constant muted rhythms of the rain. Hail plummeted down; large chunks of ice the size of dimes bounced off the dock below, scattering in every direction. 

All the while, the sun still shone.